Bettys 

ST0RY 


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The  Narrative  of  Bethany  Veney 

A  SLAVE  WOMAN. 


With  Introduction  by  Rev.  Bishop  MALLALIEU, 


Commendatory  Notices  from  Rev.  V.  A.  COOPER,  Superintendent  of  Home 
for  Little  Wanderers,  Boston,  Mass., 


Rev.  ERASTUS  SPAULDING,  Millbury,  Mass. 


MICR0RLMB3BYTHEUNC 
LIBRARY  PHOTOGRAPHIC  SERVICE 


WORCESTER,  MASS. 
i88g. 


Press  of  Geo.  H.  Ellis,  141  Franklin  Street,  Boston. 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER   FROM  BISHOP   MALLALIEU. 


There  have  been  many  histories  written,  but  they  do  not  tell  a  thousandth 
part  of  what  has  been  done  in  the  ages  past.  The  unwritten  histories  would 
fill  the  world.  It  is  so  with  biographies :  many  have  been  written,  but  unnum- 
bered millions  have  found  no  record  outside  of  throbbing  hearts.  If  we  could 
know  perfectly  the  inner  life  of  almost  any  person ;  if  we  could  only  know  the 
hopes  and  fears  and  loves  and  heartaches ;  if  we  could  only  know  the  conflicts, 
the  defeats,  the  victories  of  the  soul, —  we  should  see  that  the  humblest  and 
most  uneventful  life  is  more  thrillingly  wonderful  than  any  romance  that  was 
ever  written.  All  this  is  emphatically  true  of  thousands  upon  thousands  born 
and  reared  in  slavery. 

It  was  the  lot  of  the  subject  of  this  brief  biography  to  have  been  born  in  the 
same  State  as  Washington  the  savior  of  his  country,  as  Jefferson  the  author  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  as  Patrick  Henry  the  sublime  orator 
of  freedom ;  and  yet  she  was  born  a  slave.  She  was  born  in  a  commonwealth 
that  was  nominally  Christian,  and  yet  she  was  born  a  slave.  She  was  born  in 
a  land  of  Bibles  and  sanctuaries  and  Sabbaths,  and  yet  she  was  born  a  slave. 
Let  all  the  people  everywhere  in  all  our  borders  thank  God  that  the  shame  and 
sin  and  curse  of  slavery  have  been  done  away.  Betty  Veney  may  have  been  born 
a  slave,  but  the  pure  soul  that  looked  out  of  her  flashing  eyes  was  never  in 
bondage  to  any  miserable  being  calling  himself  her  master.  Redeemed  from 
the  galling  yoke  her  body  was  compelled  for  years  to  wear,  she  has  lived  a  pure 
and  spotless  life.  Though  poor  and  unknown  among  men,  the  angels  of  God 
have  camped  around  her  for,  lo  !  these  many  years  ;  and  she  has  been  able,  by 
the  abounding  grace  of  God,  to  walk  the  rough  and  dusty  paths  of  a  toilsome 
life  with  garments  spotless  and  wrinkleless. 

The  day  is  coming  when  slaveholders  and  their  descendants  will  no  more 
think  of  boasting  of  the  fact,  or  even  mentioning  it,  than  the  grandchildren  of 
the  slave-stealers  and  pirates  of  Newport,  and  other  Northern  seaports,  now 
think  of  priding  themselves  on  the  unspeakable  villany  of  their  ancestors.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  biographies  of  saintly,  enduring  spirits  like  that  of  Betty 
Veney  will  be  read,  and  will  serve  to  inspire  the  discouraged  and  down-trodden 
to  put  their  trust  in  the  almighty  arm  of  Jehovah,  who  alone  works  deliverance 
and  salvation  to  all  those  who  put  their  trust  in  him. 

W.  F.  MALLALIEU. 

New  Orleans,  La.,  Jan.  30,  1889. 


PREFACE. 


This  little  book,  now  offered  to  the  many  kind  friends  of 
Bethany  Veney,  contains  the  simple  story  of  one  of  the  five 
millions  of  human  beings  who,  less  than  thirty  years  ago,  were 
bought  and  sold  like  beasts  of  burden,  in  fifteen  out  of  thirty-two, 
States  of  our  American  Republic. 

Already,  this  fact  in  our  national  history  is  largely  overlooked, 
and  to  the  generation  now  coming  upon  the  stage  of  action  is 
almost  unknown. 

Compared  with  the  lives  of  many  of  her  class,  Betty's  was 
uneventful.  Yet  in  it  was  much  of  tragic  adventure  and  tender 
pathos.  Her  endurance  under  hardship,  her  fidelity  to  trust,  and, 
withal,  her  religious  faith,  commend  her  as  a  fit  subject,  not  only 
to  impress  the  lesson  of  slavery  in  the  past,  but  to  inspire  and 
deepen  a  sense  of  responsibility  toward  the  wronged  and  perse- 
cuted race  which  she  represents. 

Beyond  these  considerations  is  this :  her  days  have  already  far 
outrun  the  allotted  threescore  years  and  ten,  and  her  natural 
strength  is  much  abated.  If  sold,  these  pages  may  help  to  render 
her  declining  years  easier  and  freer  from  care. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  the  language  and  personal 
characteristics  of  Bethany  cannot  be  transcribed.  The  little  par- 
ticulars that  give  coloring  and  point,  tone  and  expression,  are 
largely  lost.  Only  the  outline  can  be  given.  As  it  is,  possessing 
only  the  merit  of  a  "plain,  unvarnished  tale,"  it  asks  for  generous 
consideration  and  extended  sale. 

M.  W.  G. 

East  Greenwich,  R.I.,  1889. 


Aunt  Betty's  Story. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHILDHOOD FIRST    LESSONS    IN     MORALITY FIRST    LESSON 

IN    THE    ART    OF    ENTERTAINING. 

I  have  but  little  recollection  of  my  very  early  life.  My 
mother  and  her  five  children  were  owned  by  one  James 
Fletcher,  Pass  Run,  town  of  Luray,  Page  County,  Virginia. 
Of  my  father  I  know  nothing. 

The  first  thing  I  remember  with  any  distinctness  was  when, 
about  seven  years  old,  I  was,  with  other  children,  knocking 
apples  from  a  tree,  when  we  were  surprised  by  my  young 
mistress,  Miss  Nasenath  Fletcher,  calling  to  us,  in  a  loud  and 
threatening  tone,  demanding  what  we  were  doing.  Without 
waiting  for  reply,  she  told  us  to  follow  her ;  and,  as  she  led 
the  way  down  to  a  blackberry  pasture  not  far  off,  she  en- 
deavored, in  a  very  solemn  manner,  to  impress  us  with  the 
importance  of  always  telling  the  truth.  "  If  asked  a  ques- 
tion," she  said,  "we  must  answer  directly,  yes  or  no."  I 
asked  her  "  what  we  must  say  if  asked  something  which  we 
did  not  know."  She  answered,  "  Why,  you  must  say  you 
don't  know,  of  course."  I  said,  "I  shall  say,  'Maybe  'tis, 
and  maybe  'tain't.' "  I  remember  well  how  the  children 
laughed  at  this ;  and  then  Miss  Nasenath  went  on  to  tell  us 
that  some  time  all  this  world  that  we  saw  would  be  burned  up, 


8  aunt  betty's  story 

—  that  the  moon  would  be  turned  into  blood,  the  stars  would 
fall  out  of  the  sky,  and  everything  would  melt  away  with  a 
great  heat,  and  that  everybody,  every  little  child  that  had 
told  a  lie,  would  be  cast  into  a  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone,  and 
would  burn  there  for  ever  and  ever,  and,  what  was  more, 
though  they  should  burn  for  ever  and  ever,  they  would  never 
be  burned  up. 

I  was  dreadfully  frightened ;  and,  as  soon  as  I  could  get 
away,  I  ran  to  my  mammy,  and,  repeating  what  mistress  had 
said,  begged  to  know  if  it  could  be  true.  To  my  great  sorrow, 
she  confirmed  it  all,  but  added  what  Miss  Nasenath  had 
failed  to  do ;  namely,  that  those  who  told  the  truth  and  were 
good  would  always  have  everything  they  should  want.  It 
seemed  to  me  then  there  was  nothing  so  good  as  molasses 
and  sugar ;  and  I  eagerly  asked,  "  Shall  I  have  all  the  mo- 
lasses and  sugar  I  want,  if  I  tell  the  truth  ? "  "  Yes,"  she 
replied,  "  if  you  are  good ;  but  remember,  if  you  tell  lies, 
you  will  be  burned  in  the  lake  that  burns  for  ever  and  ever." 

This  made  a  very  strong  impression  upon  me.  I  can 
never  forget  my  mammy's  manner  at  the  time.  I  believed 
every  word  she  said,  and  from  that  day  to  this  I  have  never 
doubted  its  truth. 

Though  my  conception  of  what  constituted  the  truth  was 
very  dim,  my  fear  of  what  should  befall  me,  if  I  were  to  tell 
a  lie,  was  very  great.  Still,  I  was  only  a  young  child,  and 
could  not,  long  at  a  time,  be  very  unhappy. 

My  old  master,  who  at  times  was  inclined  to  be  jolly,  had 
a  way  of  entertaining  his  friends  by  my  singing  and  dancing. 
Supper  over,  he  would  call  me  into  his  room,  and,  giving 
me  to  understand  what  he  wanted  of  me,  I  would,  with  all 
manner  of  grotesque  grimaces,  gestures,  and  positions,  dance 
and  sing :  — 


AUNT    BETTY  S    STORY  9 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Jim  ? 
Where  are  you  going,  Sam  ? 
To  get  a  proper  laming, 
To  jump  Jim  Crow." 

or 
"  David  the  king  was  grievit  and  worrit, 
He  went  to  his  chamber  — 
His  chamber  and  weppit ; 
And,  as  he  went,  he  weppit  and  said, 
'  O  my  son,  O  my  son ! 

Would  to  God  I  had  died 
For  thee,  O  Absalom, 
My  son,  my  son,' " — 

and  many  other  similar  songs,  of  the  meaning  of  which  I 
had  of  course  no  idea,  and  I  have  since  thought  neither  he 
nor  his  friends  could  have  had  any  more  than  I. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BEREAVEMENT CHANGE     OF     MASTER    AND     HOME  —  UNJUST 

DEMANDS PUNISHMENT    ESCAPED. 

The  next  thing  I  recall  as  being  of  any  particular  impor- 
tance to  me  was  the  death  of  my  mother,  and,  soon  after, 
that  of  Master  Fletcher.  I  must  have  been  about  nine 
years  old  at  that  time. 

Master's  children  consisted  of  five  daughters  and  two  sons. 
As  usual  in  such  cases,  an  inventory  was  taken  of  his  prop- 
erty (all  of  which  nearly  was  in  slaves),  and,  being  appor- 
tioned in  shares,  lots  were  drawn,  and,  as  might  chance,  we 
fell  to  our  several  masters  and  mistresses. 

My  sister  Matilda  and  myself  were  drawn  by  the  eldest 
daughter,  Miss  Lucy.  My  grandmother  had  begged  hard  to 
be  reckoned  with  me,  but  she  and  Uncle  Peter  fell  to  Miss 
Nasenath  ;  but  as  after  a  time  she  married  David  Kibbler, 
and  Miss  Lucy  went  to  live  with  them,  taking  her  human 
property  with  her,  to  wait  on  her,  and  also  to  work  for  Mr. 
Kibbler,  we  were  brought  together  again.  In  the  mean 
time,  I  was  put  out  with  an  old  woman,  who  gave  me  my 
food  and  clothes  for  whatever  work  I  could  do  for  her.  She 
was  kind  to  me,  as  I  then  counted  kindness,  never  whipping 
me  or  starving  me;  but  it  was  not  what  a  free-born  white 
child  would  have  found  comforting  or  needful. 

Going  into  the  family  of  David  Kibbler  as  I  did  with  my 
mistress,  I  was  really  under  his  direction  and  subject  to  his 


aunt  betty's  story  ii 

control,  almost  as  much  as  if  he  and  not  Miss  Lucy  had 
owned  me. 

Master  Kibbler  was  a  Dutchman, —  a  man  of  most  violent 
temper,  ready  to  fight  anything  or  anybody  who  resisted  his 
authority  or  in  any  way  crossed  his  path.  His  one  redeem- 
ing quality  was  his  love  for  his  horses  and  dogs.  These 
must  be  fed  before  his  servants,  and  their  comfort  and  health 
always  considered.  He  was  a  blacksmith  by  trade,  and 
would  have  me  hold  his  irons  while  he  worked  them.  I  was 
awkward  one  day,  and  he  struck  me  with  a  nail-rod,  making 
me  so  lame  my  mistress  noticed  it,  and  asked  Matilda  what 
was  the  matter  with  me ;  and,  when  she  was  told,  she  was 
greatly  troubled,  and  as  I  suppose  spoke  to  Kibbler  about  it, 
for  he  called  me  to  him,  and  bade  me  go  a  long  way  off  into 
a  field,  and,  as  he  said,  cut  some  sprouts  there.  But  he  very 
soon  followed  me,  and,  cutting  a  rod,  beat  me  severely,  and 
then  told  me  to  "go  again  and  tell  my  mistress  that  he  had 
hit  me  with  a  nail-rod,  if  I  wanted  to." 

Poor  Miss  Lucy !  She  was  kind  and  tender-hearted. 
She  often  said  she  hated  slavery,  and  wanted  nothing  to  do 
with  it ;  but  she  could  see  no  way  out  of  it. 

It  will  give  a  clearer  idea  of  the  kind  of  a  man  Kibbler 
was,  and  the  way  I  grew  to  manage  with  him,  if  I  tell 
here  a  circumstance  that  happened  after  I  had  grown  much 
older  and  stronger.  I  had  been  in  the  field  a  good  ways 
from  the  house,  helping  him  to  haul  logs.  Our  work  was 
done,  and  he  had  mounted  the  team  to  go  home,  and  the 
bars  were  let  down  for  him  to  pass  out,  when  a  drove  of 
hogs  ran  in  to  get  the  clover  that  was  growing  in  a  part  of 
the  field.  He  called  to  me  to  drive  out  the  hogs.  I  clapped 
my  hands  together,  and  shouted,  "  Shoo  !  shoo  ! "  This  fright- 
ened the  horses,  and  Kibbler  was  unable  to  control  them ; 


12  AUNT    BETTYS    STORY 

and,  rushing  through  the  gateway,  the  team  hit  the  side 
post,  tearing  it  up  from  its  place.  Of  course,  all  this  made 
him  very  angry ;  and,  of  course,  I  was  to  blame  for  it  all. 
As  soon  as  he  could  hold  the  horses,  he  turned,  and  shouted 
to  me  to  drive  out  the  hogs,  set  the  post  into  the  ground, 
and  get  back  to  the  house  by  the  time  he  did,  or  he  would 
whip  me  so  I  would  remember  it. 

A  big  boy  who  had  been  hauling  the  logs  with  us  now 
helped  me  drive  out  the  hogs  and  plant  the  post.  We  hur- 
ried with  all  our  might,  and  then  tried  to  run  home ;  but,  by 
the  time  we  got  out  of  the  woods,  we  saw  master  so  far 
ahead  of  us  I  knew  it  was  no  use  to  try,  and  I  said  I  would 
risk  the  whipping  and  not  run  any  longer.  So,  when  we 
came  up  to  the  house,  master  was  sitting  in  his  chair  by  the 
window;  and,  as  I  passed  into  the  room  near  him,  he  handed 
me  his  jack-knife,  and  said,  "  Now,  girl,  go  cut  me  a  good 
hickory, —  a  good  one,  mind  you ;  for,  if  I  have  to  cut  it 
myself,  I'll  get  a  hard  one,  you  may  be  sure."  I  took  the 
knife,  passed  through  the  kitchen  to  the  back  door,  just 
beside  which  was  a  little  shelf  where  the  pails  of  water  just 
filled  from  the  spring  were  standing.  I  laid  the  knife  on 
the  shelf,  and  passed  out  the  door,  and  ran  for  the  woods 
and  the  mountain.  By  the  time  I  reached  the  woods,  it 
began  to  rain,  and  poured  fearfully  all  the  night.  I  crowded 
my  head  under  the  alder  bushes,  while  my  shoulders  and 
body  were  dripping  wet.  All  night  I  crouched  in  this  way ; 
and,  when  morning  came,  I  was  afraid  to  show  myself,  and 
all  day  kept  concealed  by  the  trees  and  bushes  as  best  I 
could.  As  night  came  on,  I  was  very  hungry,  having  eaten 
nothing  for  more  than  thirty-six  hours  ;  and  so  I  decided  to 
go  down  the  mountain  where  old  Kibbler,  my  master's 
father,  lived,  knowing  that  he  would  give  me  something  to 


AUNT   BETTYS    STORY  1 3 

satisfy  my  hunger.  As  I  drew  nigh  the  house,  the  dogs 
barked ;  and  I  was  afraid  to  encounter  them,  and  so  laid  out 
all  night  on  the  side  of  the  hill.  In  the  morning, —  it  was 
Sunday, —  I  ventured  near  the  house;  and  the  old  man, 
seeing  me,  came  out  and  gave  me  "  How-dye,"  and  asked 
how  the  home  folks  were.  I  told  him  I  had  not  seen  them 
since  Friday,  and  added  the  reason  for  my  running  away, 
to  which  he  listened,  and  then  said,  "Well,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it  ?  "  I  said,  "  Won't  you,  Masser  Kibbler, 
go  home  with  me,  and  tell  Masser  David  he  mustn't  whip 
me?" 

I  don't  know  how  I  dared  to  say  this,  for  to  his  own  slaves 
he  was  a  hard,  ugly  man ;  but  he  gave  me  something  to  eat, 
then  went  home  with  me,  and,  after  repeating  my  story  to 
Master  David,  asked  him  if  that  was  true,  and  added,  "  Then 
you  have  no  right  to  whip  her."  And  that  was  the  end 
of  it. 

I  must  go  back  here  to  my  mistress  and  her  wish  not  to 
hold  slaves.  A  gentleman  from  Ohio  was  visiting  in  the 
neighborhood ;  and  Miss  Lucy,  knowing  he  was  from  a  free 
State,  asked  him  if  he  would  not  take  me  North  with  him. 
He  very  readily  consented,  promising  to  do  the  best  he 
could  for  me ;  but,  when  Master  David  and  others  heard 
about  it,  they  said  it  was  a  foolish  thing  to  do,  for  this  man 
would  very  likely  sell  me  before  he  left  the  South,  and  put 
the  money  into  his  own  pocket,  and  I  should  find  myself 
worse  off  than  ever.  It  was  true  that  many  Northern  men 
came  South  very  bitter  in  their  opposition  to  slavery,  and 
after  a  little  while  came  to  be  the  hardest  and  most  cruel 
slaveholders. 

I  have  sometimes  tried  to  picture  what  my  life  might  have 
been  could  I  have  been  set  free  at  that  age ;  and  I  have 


14  AUNT   BETTYS    STORY 

imagined  myself  with  a  young  girl's  ambition,  working  hard 
and  carefully  saving  my  earnings,  then  getting  a  little  home 
with  garden,  where  I  could  plant  the  kind  of  things  I  had 
known  in  the  South,  then  bringing  my  sisters  and  brothers 
to  share  with  me  these  blessings  of  freedom.  But  I  had  yet 
to  know  far  deeper  sorrows  before  I  could  have  any  of  this 
glad  experience. 

Miss  Lucy  now  told  me,  if  I  would  be  contented  and  stay 
quietly  where  I  was,  and  not  be  married,  she  would,  when 
her  nephew  Noe  came  to  be  of  age,  give  me  my  freedom. 
Instead  of  this,  however,  I  was  told  soon  after  that  she  had 
made  her  will,  bequeathing  me  already  to  this  nephew.  I 
was  never  sure  this  was  true.  Her  kindness  to  me  and  my 
love  for  her  made  it  always  seem  impossible. 


CHAPTER   III. 

RELIGIOUS    EXPERIENCES. 

I  come  now  to  a  phase  in  my  experience  which  aroused  the 
impressions  made  upon  me  so  long  before  in  the  blackberry- 
pasture. 

At  Powell's  Fort,  not  far  from  where  I  now  lived,  was  the 
Mount  Asa  school-house,  where  the  different  religious  de- 
nominations held  their  meetings.  My  master's  brother, 
Jerry  Kibbler,  and  his  sister  Sally  had  been  to  a  camp- 
meeting,  and  got  "religion."  They  came  home  determined 
their  religion  should  help  others ;  and,  through  their  in- 
fluence, this  little  school-house  had  been  fitted  up  with 
pulpit  and  seats,  and  now  there  was  to  be  a  series  of  revival 
meetings  held  there.  I  had  never  been  to  any  kind  of  a 
meeting  since  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  then  my  mistress  had 
sometimes  taken  me  along  for  company. 

At  this  time,  Miss  Ellen  Mills  was  spinning  wool  at  Mr. 
Jonathan  Grandstaff's ;  and  one  night,  as  it  was  growing 
dusk,  she  came  down  to  master's,  to  see  if  some  of  the 
family  would  go  to  meeting  with  her.  No  one  cared  to  go ; 
and  Miss  Lucy,  turning  to  me,  said  :  "There  is  Betty.  Take 
Betty.  She  will  be  company  for  you."  So  I  went.  The 
minister  was  preaching  when  we  entered ;  and  I  have  no 
recollection  of  anything  he  said  in  his  sermon,  but,  when  he 
took  his  seat,  he  sang  the  hymn, — 


1 6  aunt  betty's  story 

"  Then  let  this  feeble  body  fail, 

Or  let  it  faint  or  die, 
My  soul  shall  quit  this  mournful  vale, 

And  soar  to  worlds  on  high, 
Shall  join  those  distant  saints, 

And  find  its  long-sought  rest." 

It  was  a  hymn  of  many  verses  (I  afterwards  got  an  old 
woman  to  teach  them  to  me) ;  and  there  was  such  tender 
ness  in  his  voice  and  such  solemnity  in  his  manner  that  I 
was  greatly  affected.  When  the  singing  was  over,  he 
moved  about  among  the  congregation ;  and,  coming  close 
to  me,  he  said,  "  Girl,  don't  you  want  religion  ?  don't  you 
want  to  be  happy  when  you  die  ? "  Then  he  asked  me  to 
promise  him  that,  when  I  got  home,  I  would  go  upon  my 
knees  and  ask  God  to  give  me  the  witness  that  I  was  his. 
I  made  him  no  answer;  but,  as  soon  as  I  reached  home  and 
was  alone,  I  knelt  down,  and  in  my  feeble  and  ignorant  way 
begged  to  be  saved.  From  that  day  to  this,  I  have  been 
praying  and  trying  to  do  as  I  thought  my  heavenly  Master 
has  required  of  me;  and  I  think  I  have  had  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit. 

So,  night  after  night,  I  went  to  the  little  school-house, 
and  had  many  precious  seasons.  Master  Jerry  and  Miss 
Sally  were  very  kind  to  me,  and  tried  to  show  me  the  way  to 
be  a  Christian. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  Master  David  said  he  was 
not  going  to  have  me  running  to  meeting  all  the  time  any 
longer.  He  had  decided  to  send  me  up  to  old  Mr.  Levers, 
two  miles  away,  there  to  stay  until  I  should  get  over  my 
"religious  fever,"  as  he  called  it.  Accordingly,  I  went  as 
directed  ;  but,  when  it  came  night,  I  asked  if  I  might  go 
down  to  Mount   Asa   school-house   for  meeting.     The    old 


AUNT   BETTYS    STORY  1 7 

man  said  :  "  Yes.  You  can  go  ;  and,  as  it  is  so  far  away,  you 
need  not  come  back  here  till  morning.  But  go  home,  and 
stay  with  the  children,  as  you  always  do,  and  have  the  care 
of  them."  I  couldn't  understand  it,  but  I  went;  and,  when 
in  the  morning  Kibbler  saw  me,  he  scolded,  and  sent  me  off 
to  Levers  again.  Every  night,  old  Mr.  Levers  would  tell  me 
I  could  go ;  and  I  did,  till,  in  the  middle  of  the  meeting  one 
night,  Master  Kibbler  came  up  to  me,  and,  taking  me  by  the 
arm,  carried  me  out,  scolding  and  fuming,  declaring  that  old 
Webster  (the  minister)  was  a  liar,  and  that  for  himself  he 
didn't  want  such  a  "  whoopin'  and  hollerin'  religion,"  and,  if 
that  was  the  way  to  heaven,  he  didn't  "  want  to  go  there." 
After  this,  my  conscience  troubled  me  very  much  about 
going.  Mr.  Levers  would  tell  me  to  go  ;  but  I  knew  that 
Master  David  had  forbidden  me  to  do  so.  One  night,  I 
started  out,  and,  as  I  came  to  a  persimmon-tree,  I  felt  moved 
to  go  down  on  my  knees  and  ask  the  Lord  to  help  me,  and 
make  Master  David  willing.  In  a  few  minutes,  I  felt  very 
happy.  I  wanted  to  remain  on  my  knees,  and  wished  I  could 
walk  on  them  till  I  could  come  before  Master  David.  I  tried 
to  do  so,  and  was  almost  surprised  to  find  I  could  get  along 
so  well.  At  last,  I  reached  the  piazza,  and  was  able  to  enter 
the  room,  where  I  saw  him  sitting ;  and,  as  I  did  so,  I  said, 
"  O  Master,  may  I  go  to  meeting  ? "  He  saw  my  position ; 
and,  as  if  "rent  by  the  Spirit,"  he  cried  out :  "  Well,  I'll  go  to 
the  devil  if  you  ain't  my  match  !  Yes  :  go  to  meeting,  and 
stay  there." 

After  this,  I  had  no  trouble  from  this  cause.  When  I  was 
to  be  taken  into  the  church,  I  asked  him  if  he  was  willing, 
and  he  said  :  "  I  don't  care.  If  that's  your  way  of  getting 
to  heaven,  I  don't  care.  I  only  wish  you  were  all  there." 
So  I  was  baptized,  and  have  been  trying,  in  my  poor  way 
ever  since  to  serve  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE A    SLAVEHOLDER'S    IDEA   OF    ITS 

REQUIREMENTS SEPARATION. 

Year  after  year  rolled  on.  Master  Jonas  Mannyfield 
lived  seven  miles  from  us,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  ;  and  he  owned  a  likely  young  fellow  called  Jerry. 
We  had  always  known  each  other,  and  now  he  wanted  to 
marry  me.  Our  masters  were  both  willing ;  and  there  was 
nothing  to  hinder,  except  that  there  was  no  minister  about 
there  to  marry  us.  "  No  matter  for  that,"  Kibbler  said  to 
Jerry.  "  If  you  want  Bett,  and  she  wants  you,  that's  the 
whole  of  it."  But  I  didn't  think  so.  I  said,  "  No :  never 
till  somebody  comes  along  who  can  marry  us."  So  it  hap- 
pened, one  day,  there  was  a  colored  man  —  a  pedler,  with 
his  cart — on  the  road,  and  Jerry  brought  him  in,  and  said  he 
was  ready  to  be  minister  for  us.  He  asked  us  a  few  ques- 
tions, which  we  answered  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  and  then 
he  declared  us  husband  and  wife.  I  did  not  want  him  to 
make  us  promise  that  we  would  always  be  true  to  each  other, 
forsaking  all  others,  as  the  white  people  do  in  their  marriage 
service,  because  I  knew  that  at  any  time  our  masters  could 
compel  us  to  break  such  a  promise  ;  and  I  had  never  for- 
gotten the  lesson  learned,  so  many  years  before,  in  the 
blackberry  pasture. 

So  Jerry  and  I  were  happy  as,  under  all  the  circumstances, 
we  could  well  be.  When  he  asked  his  master's  consent  to 
our  marriage,  he  told  him  he  had  had  thoughts  of  removing 


AUNT   BETTY  S    STORY  1 9 

to  Missouri,  in  which  case  he  should  take  him  with  him,  and 
we  would  have  to  be  separated  ;  but,  if  he  chose  to  run  the 
risk,  he  had  nothing  to  say.  Jerry  did  not  think  there  was 
any  danger,  and  we  were  not  dissuaded ;  for  hearts  that  love 
are  much  the  same  in  bond  or  free,  in  white  or  black. 

Eight  or  ten  months  passed  on,  when  one  night  my 
brother  Stephen,  who  lived  on  the  Blue  Ridge,  near  Master 
Mannyfield,  came  to  see  me,  and,  as  we  talked  of  many 
things,  he  spoke  of  Jerry  in  a  way  that  instantly  roused  my 
suspicion.  I  said  :  "  Tell  me  what  is  the  matter  ?  I  know 
there  is  something.  Is  Jerry  dead  ?  Is  he  sold  ?  Tell  me 
what  it  is."  I  saw  he  dreaded  to  speak,  and  that  frightened 
me  the  more. 

At  last,  he  said :  "  'Tis  no  use,  Betty.  You  have  got  to 
know  it.  Old  Look-a-here's  people  are  all  in  jail  for  debt." 
"  Old  Look-a-here "  was  the  nickname  by  which  Manny- 
field  was  known  by  the  colored  people  far  and  near,  because 
he  had  a  way  of  saying,  when  he  was  about  to  whip  one  of 
his  slaves,  "Now  look-a-here,  you  black  rascal,"  or  "you 
black  wench." 

The  next  day  was  Saturday,  and  I  hurried  to  complete  my 
task  in  the  corn-field,  and  then  asked  my  master  if  I  could  go 
to  see  Jerry.  He  objected  at  first,  but  at  last  gave  me  a 
pass  to  see  my  brother,  and  be  gone  until  Monday  morning. 

The  sun  might  have  been  two  hours  high  when  I  started  ; 
but,  before  I  was  half  over  the  mountain,  night  had  closed 
round  me  its  deepest  gloom.  The  vivid  flashes  of  lightning 
made  the  carriage  path  plain  at  times,  and  then  I  could  not 
see  a  step  before  me ;  and  the  rolling  thunder  added  to  my 
fear  and  dread.  I  was  dripping  wet  when,  about  nine 
o'clock,  I  reached  the  house.  It  had  been  my  plan  to  get 
Stephen  to  go  on  with  me  to  Jerry's  mother's,  and  stay  the 


20  aunt  betty's  story 

night  there ;  but  his  mistress,  who  was  sister  to  my  Miss 
Lucy,  declared  we  must  not  go  on  in  the  storm,  and,  giving 
me  supper,  brought  bedding,  that  I  might  lie  on  the  kitchen 
floor  and  rest  me  there.  In  the  morning,  after  a  good 
breakfast,  she  started  us  off,  with  a  bag  of  biscuits  to  eat  by 
the  way.  Jerry's  mother  was  glad  to  go  with  us;  and  we 
hurried  along  to  Jerry,  in  jail  at  Little  Washington,  where 
he  with  his  fellow-slaves  was  confined,  like  sheep  or  oxen, 
shut  up  in  stalls,  to  be  sold  to  pay  their  owner's  debts. 

Jerry  saw  us,  as  we  came  along  the  road,  through  the  prison 
bars ;  and  the  jailer  allowed  us  to  talk  together  there,  not, 
however,  without  a  witness  to  all  we  might  say.  We  had 
committed  no  offence  against  God  or  man.  Jerry  had  not ; 
and  yet,  like  base  criminals,  we  were  denied  even  the  con- 
solation of  privacy.  This  was  a  necessary  part  of  the  system 
of  American  slavery.  Neither  wife  nor  mother  could  inter- 
vene to  soften  its  rigors  one  jot. 

Several  months  passed,  and  Mannyfield  was  still  unable  to 
redeem  his  property ;  and  they  were  at  last  put  up  at  auction, 
and  sold  to  the  highest  bidder.  Frank  White,  a  slave-trader, 
bought  the  entire  lot,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  make  up  a 
gang  for  the  Southern  market. 

Arrangements  were  made  to  start  Friday  morning;  and 
on  Thursday  afternoon,  chained  together,  the  gang  were 
taken  across  the  stream,  and  encamped  on  its  banks.  White 
then  went  to  Jerry,  and,  taking  the  handcuffs  from  his 
wrists,  told  him  to  go  and  stay  the  night  with  his  wife,  and 
see  if  he  could  persuade  her  to  go  with  him.  If  he  could,  he 
would  buy  her,  and  so  they  need  not  be  separated.  He 
would  pass  that  way  in  the  morning,  and  see.  Of  course, 
Jerry  was  only  too  glad  to  come  ;  and,  at  first,  I  thought  I 
would  go  with  him.     Then  came  the  consciousness  that  this 


AUNT   BETTY  S    STORY 


inducement  was  only  a  sham,  and  that,  once  exposed  for 
sale  in  a  Southern  market,  the  bidder  with  the  largest  sum 
of  money  would  be  our  purchaser  singly  quite  as  surely  as 
together ;  and,  if  separated,  what  would  I  do  in  a  strange 
land  ?  No  :  I  would  not  go.  It  was  far  better  for  me  to  stay 
where,  for  miles  and  miles,  I  knew  every  one,  and  every  one 
knew  me.  Then  came  the  wish  to  secrete  ourselves  together 
in  the  mountains,  or  elsewhere,  till  White  should  be  gone ; 
but,  to  do  this,  detection  was  sure.  Then  we  remembered 
that  White  had  trusted  us,  in  letting  him  come  to  me,  and 
we  felt  ashamed,  for  a  moment,  as  if  we  had  tried  to  cheat ; 
but  what  right  had  White  to  carry  him  away,  or  even  to 
own  him  at  all  ?  Our  poor,  ignorant  reasoning  found  it  hard 
to  understand  his  rights  or  our  own ;  and  we  at  last  decided 
that,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  Jerry  should  take  to  the  moun- 
tains, and,  when  White  was  surely  gone,  either  I  would  join 
him  there,  and  we  would  make  for  the  North  together,  or  he 
would  come  back,  go  to  White's  mother,  who  lived  a  few 
miles  distant,  and  tell  her  he  would  work  for  her  and  obey 
her,  but  he  would  never  go  South  to  be  worked  to  death  in 
the  rice-swamps  or  cotton-fields. 

We  talked  late  into  the  night ;  and  at  last,  in  the  silence 
and  dread,  worn  out  with  sorrow  and  fear,  my  head  on  his 
shoulder,  we  both  dropped  asleep. 

Daylight  was  upon  us  when  we  waked.  The  sad  con- 
sciousness of  our  condition,  and  our  utter  helplessness,  over- 
powered us.  I  opened  the  door,  and  there  was  my  mistress, 
with  pail  in  hand,  going  to  the  spring  for  water.  "Oh, 
what  shall  I  do  ?  Where  shall  I  go  ? "  cried  Jerry,  as  he  saw 
her.  "  Have  no  fear,"  I  said.  "  Go  right  along.  I  know 
mistress  will  never  betray  you."  And,  with  a  bound,  he 
was  over  the  fence,  into  the  fields,  and  off  to  the  mountains. 


2  2  AUNT   BETTYS    STORY 

In  a  very  short  time,  White  and  his  poor,  doomed  com- 
pany came  along,  and  called  for  Jerry.  I  had  taken  my  pail 
to  milk  the  cows ;  and,  seeing  me,  he  sung  out,  "  Woman, 
where  is  Jerry,  I  say  ? "  "  I  don't  know  where  Jerry  is,"  I 
answered.  Then,  turning  to  Kibbler,  who,  hearing  the  out- 
cry, now  came  out,  he  said,  "  You  told  me  that  woman 
wouldn't  lie ;  and  you  know  well  enough  she  is  lying  now, 

when  she  says  she  don't  know  where  that rascal  is." 

Kibbler  answered  very  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  "  I  never 
knowed  her  to  lie ;  but  may  be  this  time, —  may  be  this 
time."  White  then  turned  to  me,  and  said,  "  I  took  off  his 
handcuffs,  and  let  him  go  to  you,  and  you  had  no  business 
to  serve  me  so." 

It  was  true  I  did  not  know  where  Jerry  was  at  that  time. 
We  had  agreed  that  we  would  meet  that  night  near  the 
blacksmith's  old  shop,  on  the  other  side  of  the  run ;  and 
that  was  all  I  knew  of  his  whereabouts,  though  he  had  not 
been  gone  long  enough  to  be  far  away.  It  was  true  he  had 
trusted  us,  and  I  felt  very  badly  ;  but  what  else  could  we 
have  done  ?     Kind  reader,  what  think  you  ? 

I  then  told  him  that  Jerry  had  said  he  was  willing  to  work, 
and  would  go  to  his  mother's  and  serve  her,  but  never,  if 
he  could  help  it,  would  he  be  carried  South. 

Then  White  tried  to  bargain  with  Kibbler  for  my  pur- 
chase, saying  he  would  give  any  price  he  should  name  for 
me,  because  he  knew  I  would  then  find  Jerry.  But  it  was 
no  use.  Kibbler  had  a  kind  spot  in  his  heart,  and  would  not 
consent  to  let  me  go.  So  the  slave-trader  moved  on  with 
his  human,  cattle. 

Five  miles  on  the  road  lived  David  McCoy,  another  slave- 
trader.  When  White  reached  his  house,  it  was  agreed  by 
them  that,  if  McCoy  could  find  Jerry  within  two  days,  he 
should  bring  him  on,  and  they  would  meet  at  Stanton,  Va. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MEETING A    LAST    INTERVIEW SEPARATION. 

The  place  where  I  was  to  meet  Jerry  was,  as  I  have  said, 
across  the  run,  in  a  corn-field,  near  the  blacksmith's  shop, 
the  time  Friday  night. 

It  had  rained  hard  all  day,  and  the  stream  was  swollen, 
and  pouring  and  rushing  at  a  fearful  rate.  I  waited  till 
everybody  was  in  bed  and  asleep,  when  I  lighted  my  pine 
knot,  and  started  for  the  Pass.  It  was  still  raining,  and  the 
night  was  very  dark.  Only  by  my  torch  could  I  see  a  step 
before  me ;  and,  when  I  attempted  to  wade  in,  as  I  did  in 
many  different  places,  I  found  it  was  no  use.  I  should  surely 
be  drowned  if  I  persisted.  So,  disappointed  and  grieved,  I 
gave  up  and  went  home.  The  next  morning  I  was  able  to 
get  over  on  horseback  to  milk  the  cows,  but  I  neither  heard 
nor  saw  anything  of  Jerry. 

Saturday  night  came.  I  knew  well  that,  if  not  caught  by 
White,  Jerry  would  be  round.  At  last,  every  one  was.  in 
bed,  and  all  was  still.  I  waited  and  listened.  I  listened 
and  waited.  Then  I  heard  his  step  at  the  door.  I  hurriedly 
opened  it,  and  he  came  in.  His  clothes  were  still  damp 
and  stiff  from  the  rain  of  yesterday.  He  was  frightened  and 
uneasy.  He  had  been  hiding  around  in  different  places,  con- 
stantly fearing  detection.  He  had  seen  me  from  behind  the 
old  blacksmith's  shop  when  I  had  tried  the  night  before, 
with  my  pine  knot,  to  ford  the  stream ;  and  he  was  glad,  he 
said,  when  he  saw  me  go  back,  for  he  knew  I  should  be  car- 


24  aunt  betty's  story 

ried  down  by  the  current  and  be  drowned,  if  I  had  persisted. 
I  went  to  my  mistress's  bedroom,  and  asked  her  if  I  might 
go  to  the  cellar.  She  knew  at  once  what  I  meant,  and  whis- 
pered softly,  "  Betty,  has  Jerry  come  ?  "  then,  without  wait- 
ing for  reply,  added,  "get  him  some  milk  and  light  bread 
and  butter."  I  was  not  long  in  doing  so ;  and  the  poor  fel- 
low ate  like  one  famishing.  Then  he  wanted  to  know  all 
that  had  happened,  and  what  White  had  said  when  he  found 
he  was  gone.  We  talked  a  long  time,  and  tried  to  devise 
some  plans  for  our  mutual  safety  and  possible  escape  from 
slavery  altogether ;  but,  every  way  we  looked,  the  path  was 
beset  with  danger  and  exposure.  We  were  both  utterly  dis- 
heartened. But  sleep  came  at  last  and,  for  the  time  being, 
relieved  us  of  our  fears. 

In  the  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  we  had  our  breakfast 
together,  and,  as  the  hours  passed,  began  to  feel  a  little  com- 
forted. After  dinner,  we  walked  out  to  the  field  and  strolled 
about  for  some  time ;  and,  when  ready  to  go  back  to  the 
house,  we  each  took  an  armful  of  fodder  along  for  the  horses. 
As  we  laid  it  down  and  turned  to  go  into  the  house,  David 
McCoy  rode  up  on  horseback.  He  saw  Jerry  at  once,  and 
called  him  to  come  to  the  fence.  The  excitement  of  the  last 
days  —  the  fasting  and  the  fear  —  had  completely  cowed  and 
broken  whatever  of  manhood,  or  even  of  brute  courage,  a 
slave  might  by  any  possibility  be  presumed  at  any  time  to 
be  possessed  of,  and  the  last  remains  of  these  qualities  in 
poor  Jerry  were  gone.  He  mutely  obeyed ;  and  when,  with 
an  oath,  McCoy  commanded  him  to  mount  the  horse  behind 
him,  he  mutely  seated  himself  there.  McCoy  then  called  to 
me  to  go  to  the  house  and  bring  Jerry's  clothes.  "  Never," 
—  I  screamed  back  to  him, —  "  never,  not  to  save  your  mis- 
erable life."     But  Jerry   said :    "  O  Betty,  'tis  no  use.     We 


aunt  betty's  story  25 

can't  help  it."  I  knew  this  was  so.  I  stifled  my  anger  and 
my  grief,  brought  his  little  bundle,  into  which  I  tucked  a 
testament  and  catechism  some  one  had  given  me,  and  shook 
hands  "  good-by  "  with  him.  So  we  parted  forever,  in  this 
world. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

MOTHERHOOD CHANGE    OF    MASTERS SAD    EXPERIENCE 

TAKEN    TO    RICHMOND AUCTION-BLOCK RETURN. 

Several  months  passed,  and  I  became  a  mother. 

My  dear  white  lady,  in  your  pleasant  home  made  joyous 
by  the  tender  love  of  husband  and  children  all  your  own, 
you  can  never  understand  the  slave  mother's  emotions  as 
she  clasps  her  new-born  child,  and  knows  that  a  master's 
word  can  at  any  moment  take  it  from  her  embrace ;  and 
when,  as  was  mine,  that  child  is  a  girl,  and  from  her  own 
experience  she  sees  its  almost  certain  doom  is  to  minister  to 
the  unbridled  lust  of  the  slave-owner,  and  feels  that  the  law 
holds  over  her  no  protecting  arm,  it  is  not  strange  that, 
rude  and  uncultured  as  I  was,  I  felt  all  this,  and  would  have 
been  glad  if  we  could  have  died  together  there  and  then. 

Master  Kibbler  was  still  hard  and  cruel,  and  I  was  in  con- 
stant trouble.  Miss  Lucy  was  kind  as  ever,  and  it  grieved 
her  to  see  me  unhappy.  At  last,  she  told  me  that  perhaps, 
if  I  should  have  some  other  home  and  some  other  master, 
I  should  not  be  so  wretched,  and,  if  I  chose,  I  might  look 
about  and  see  what  I  could  do.  I  soon  heard  that  John 
Prince,  at  Luray,  was  wanting  to  buy  a  woman.  Miss  Lucy 
told  me,  if  it  was  agreeable  to  me,  I  might  go  to  him  and 
work  for  a  fortnight,  and  if  at  the  end  of  that  time  he 
wanted  me,  and  I  chose  to  stay,  she  would  arrange  terms 
with  him  ;  but,  if  I  did  not  want  to  stay,  not  to  believe 
anything  that  any  one  might  tell  me,  but  come  back  at 
once  to  her. 


aunt  betty's  story  27 

At  the  end  of  two  weeks,  Master  John  said  he  was  going 
over  to  have  a  talk  with  Miss  Lucy ;  and  did  I  think,  if  he 
should  conclude  to  buy  me,  that  I  should  steal  from  him  ? 
I  answered  that,  if  I  worked  for  him,  I  ought  to  expect  him 
to  give  me  enough  to  eat,  and  then  I  should  have  no  need  to 
steal.  "You  wouldn't  want  me  to  go  over  yonder,  into  the 
garden  of  another  man,  and  steal  his  chickens,  when  I  am 
working  for  you,  would  you,  Master  John  ?  I  expect,  of 
course,  you  will  give  me  enough  to  eat  and  to  wear,  and 
then  I  shall  have  no  reason  to  steal  from  anybody."  He 
seemed  satisfied  and  pleased,  and  bargained  with  Miss  Lucy, 
both  for  me  and  my  little  girl.  Both  master  and  Mrs. 
Prince  were  kind  and  pleasant  to  me,  and  my  little  Charlotte 
played  with  the  little  Princes,  and  had  a  good  time.  I 
worked  very  hard,  but  I  was  strong  and  well,  and  willing  to 
work ;  and  for  several  years  there  was  little  to  interrupt 
this  state  of  things. 

At  last,  I  can't  say  how  long,  I  was  told  that  John  O'Neile, 
the  jailer,  had  bought  me ;  and  he  soon  took  me  to  his  home, 
which  was  in  one  part  of  the  jail.  He,  however,  was  not  the 
real  purchaser.  This  was  David  McCoy,  the  same  who  had 
grabbed  Jerry  on  that  fatal  morning ;  and  he  had  bought  me 
with  the  idea  of  taking  me  to  Richmond,  thinking  he  could 
make  a  speculation  on  me.  I  was  well  known  in  all  the 
parts  around  as  a  faithful,  hard-working  woman,  when  well 
treated,  but  ugly  and  wilful,  if  abused  beyond  a  certain 
point.  McCoy  had  bought  me  away  from  my  child ;  and 
now,  he  thought,  he  could  sell  me,  if  carried  to  Richmond, 
at  a  good  advantage.  I  did  not  think  so  ;  and  I  determined, 
if  possible,  to  disappoint  him. 

The  night  after  being  taken  in  charge  by  John  O'Neile,  as 
soon   as  I  was  sure  everybody  was   asleep,  I    got   up   and 


28  aunt  betty's  story 

crawled  out  of  the  house,  and  went  to  my  old  Methodist 
friend,  Jerry  Kibbler.  I  knew  the  way  into  his  back  door ; 
and,  though  I  presumed  he  would  be  asleep,  I  was  sure  he 
would  willingly  get  up  and  hear  what  I  had  to  say.  I  was 
not  mistaken.  He  heard  my  voice  inquiring  for  him,  and  in 
a  very  few  minutes  dressed  himself,  and  came  out,  and  in  his 
pleasant,  kind  manner  said  :  "Aunt  Betty,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter ?  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  I  told  him  McCoy  had 
bought  me,  away  from  my  child,  and  was  going  to  send  me 
to  Richmond.  I  coulditt  go  there.  Wouldn't  he  buy  me  ? 
I  saw  he  felt  very  badly  ;  but  what,  he  said,  could  he  do  with 
me?  He  didn't  believe  in  buying  slaves, —  and,  finally,  he 
hadn't  "money  enough  to  do  it."  I  begged  so  hard  that  he 
said  he  would  see  what  he  could  do,  and  I  went  back  to  the 
jail.  Mrs.  O'Neile  had  discovered  my  absence,  and  was  on 
the  watch  for  me.  The  next  day,  she  told  me  I  was  to  start 
for  Richmond  the  day  after,  and  it  was  no  use  for  me  to 
make  a  fuss,  so  I  might  as  well  bring  my  mind  to  it  first  as 
last. 

The  day  was  almost  gone,  and  I  had  had  no  word  from  Mr. 
Jerry.  As  it  was  growing  dark,  I  saw  a  colored  man  whom  I 
knew,  and  I  managed  to  make  him  see,  through  the  jail  win- 
dows, that  I  wanted  to  speak  with  him.  I  induced  him  to 
find  Master  Jerry;  but  he  came  back  with  word  from  him  that 
he  had  seen  both  O'Neile  and  McCoy,  and  could  make  no 
kind  of  an  arrangement  with  them.  He  had  not  come  to  me, 
because  he  felt  so  sorry  for  me,  and  had  waited,  in  the  hope 
that  some  one  else  would  tell  me.  So  there  seemed  noth- 
ing else  before  me  ;  and  when,  on  the  next  morning,  Mrs. 
O'Neile  told  me  to  make  myself  ready  for  the  journey,  I  tried 
to  be  submissive,  and  dressed  myself  in  a  new  calico  dress 
that  Miss  Lucy  had  given  me  long  before. 


aunt  betty's  story  29 

I  had  never  in  my  life  felt  so  sad  and  so  completely  for- 
saken. I  thought  my  heart  was  really  breaking.  Mr. 
O'Neile  called  me;  and,  as  I  passed  out  of  the  door,  I  heard 
Jackoline,  the  jailer's  daughter,  singing  in  a  loud,  clear 
voice, — 

"  When  through  the  deep  waters  I  call  thee  to  go, 
The  rivers  of  woe  shall  not  thee  overflow ; 
For  I  will  be  with  thee,  and  cause  thee  to  stand, 
Upheld  by  my  righteous,  omnipotent  hand." 

I  can  never  forget  the  impression  these  words  and  the 
music  and  the  tones  of  Jackoline's  voice  made  upon  me.  It 
seemed  to  me  as  if  they  all  came  directly  out  of  heaven.  It 
was  my  Saviour  speaking  directly  to  me.  Was  not  /  passing 
the  deep  waters  ?  What  rivers  of  woe  could  be  sorer  than 
these  through  which  I  was  passing  ?  Would  not  this  right- 
eous, omnipotent  hand  uphold  me  and  help  me  ?  Yes,  here 
was  His  word  for  it.     I  would  trust  it ;  and  I  was  comforted. 

We  mounted  the  stage,  and  were  off  for  Charlotteville, 
where  we  stopped  over  night,  and  took  the  cars  next  morn- 
ing for  Richmond. 

Arrived  in  Richmond,  we  were  again  shut  up  in  jail,  all 
around  which  was  a  very  high  fence,  so  high  that  no  com- 
munication with  the  outside  world  was  possible.  I  say  we, 
for  there  was  a  young  slave  girl  whom  McCoy  had  taken 
with  me  to  the  Richmond  market.  The  next  day,  as  the 
hour  for  the  auction  drew  near,  Jailer  O'Neile  came  to  us, 
with  a  man,  whom  he  told  to  take  us  along  to  the  dressmaker 
and  to  charge  her  to  "fix  us  up  fine."  This  dressmaker  was 
a  most  disagreeable  woman,  whose  business  it  was  to  array 
such  poor  creatures  as  we  in  the  gaudiest  and  most  striking 
attire  conceivable,  that,  when  placed  upon  the  auction  stand, 
we  should  attract  the  attention  of  all  present,  if  not  in  one 


30  aunt  betty's  story 

way,  why,  in  another.  She  put  a  white  muslin  apron  on  me, 
and  a  large  cape,  with  great  pink  bows  on  each  shoulder, 
and  a  similar  rig  also  on  Eliza.  Thus  equipped,  we  were  led 
through  a  crowd  of  rude  men  and  boys  to  the  place  of  sale, 
which  was  a  large  open  space  on  a  prominent  square,  under 
cover. 

I  had  been  told  by  an  old  negro  woman  certain  tricks  that 
I  could  resort  to,  when  placed  upon  the  stand,  that  would  be 
likely  to  hinder  my  sale ;  and  when  the  doctor,  who  was 
employed  to  examine  the  slaves  on  such  occasions,  told  me 
to  let  him  see  my  tongue,  he  found  it  coated  and  feverish, 
and,  turning  from  me  with  a  shiver  of  disgust,  said  he  was 
obliged  to  admit  that  at  that  moment  I  was  in  a  very  bilious 
condition.  One  after  another  of  the  crowd  felt  of  my  limbs, 
asked  me  all  manner  of  questions,  to  which  I  replied  in  the 
ugliest  manner  I  dared ;  and  when  the  auctioneer  raised  his 
hammer,  and  cried,  "  How  much  do  I  hear  for  this  woman  ? " 
the  bids  were  so  low  I  was  ordered  down  from  the  stand,  and 
Eliza  was  called  up  in  my  place.  Poor  thing!  there  were 
many  eager  bids  for  her ;  for,  for  such  as  she,  the  demands  of 
slavery  were  insatiable. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

RETURN IMPROVED    CONDITION COMFORTABLE    HOME. 

I  was  now  taken  back  to  Luray ;  and,  though  McCoy  was 
greatly  disappointed  at  the  result  of  his  Richmond  venture, 
he  was  wise  enough  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Mrs.  McCoy 
took  a  fancy  to  keep  me  ;  and,  as  she  had  not  work  enough 
to  employ  all  my  time,  I  found  I  could  earn  in  the  neighbor- 
hood enough  money  to  carry  home  a  large  interest  on  my 
cost.  After  a  while,  McCoy  agreed  that,  if  I  should  bring 
him  one  dollar  and  a  half  every  Saturday  night,  he  would 
be  satisfied,  and  I  could  do  what  I  pleased  with  myself. 

I  washed  blankets  and  bed-quilts,  as  well  as  weekly  wash- 
ings. I  cleaned  house,  and  worked  in  the  fields,  getting  a 
job  whenever  I  could  find  it  and  whatever  it  might  be.  I 
was  near  my  child,  where  I  could  see  her  often ;  and  I  was 
comparatively  happy. 

After  a  time,  master  took  a  job  of  work  on  the  pike,  de- 
signing to  work  it  with  free  negroes,  whom  he  could  hire  for 
a  small  sum,  and  board  them.  He  took  me  out  there  to 
cook  for  them.  It  gratified  me  to  know  that  he  placed  con- 
fidence enough  in  me  to  do  this ;  and  I  did  my  best  to 
deserve  it.  The  negroes  were  a  rude  set,  as  might  be 
expected ;  for  at  that  time  they  were  the  one  class  despised 
by  everybody.  They  were  despised  by  the  master-class, 
because  they  could  not  subject  them  to  their  will  quite  in 


32  AUNT   BETTYS    STORY 

the  same  way  as  if  they  were  slaves,  and  despised  by  the 
slave-class,  because  envied  as  possessing  a  nominal  freedom, 
which  they  were  denied.  Thus  are  contempt  and  envy 
closely  allied. 

Sometimes,  one  or  another  of  these  men  would  be  insult- 
ing to  me,  and  impose  upon  me  ;  but  there  was  always  one 
of  their  number  who  at  such  times  would  come  to  my  rescue. 
He  would  often  bring  water  from  the  spring  for  me,  and  in 
many  kind  ways  caused  me  to  regard  him  with  a  different 
feeling  from  any  one  I  had  met  since  I  had  lost  my  poor 
Jerry.  This  man  was  Frank  Veney,  afterwards  my  second 
husband. 

I  remember  telling  Master  McCoy  that,  with  such  a  hungry 
set  of  fellows  to  feed,  I  couldn't  see  how  he  could  make  any 
money  out  of  that  job,  so  much  bread  and  meat  must  cost  so 
much.  He  laughed  very  heartily,  and,  as  I  could  see,  very 
approvingly,  and  said,  "  Oh,  yes,  Betty,  I  know  it  costs  a 
heap  ;  but  I  have  reckoned  that  all  up,  and  I  know  how  it  is 
coming  out."  It  pleased  him  well  to  see  that  I  thought  of 
his  interest ;  and  I  think  he  saw  in  it,  too,  that  I  might  have 
some  business  tact  myself.  When  the  work  on  this  pike  was 
finished,  my  master  took  other  similar  jobs  elsewhere,  and  I 
had  many  changes  during  three  or  four  years.  At  last,  we 
got  back  to  Luray,  and  master  agreed  with  me  that  I  should 
pay  him  thirty  dollars  per  year  for  my  time,  and  whatever  I 
earned  above  that  should  be  my  own. 

I  rented  of  John  Prince  a  little  house  at  Dry  Run,  just  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  with  my  little  boy  Joe,  now 
about  two  years  old,  lived  very  contentedly. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ANOTHER    CHANGE NEW    HOPES    AND    OLD    FEARS VICISSI- 
TUDES   POSSIBLE    IN    SLAVE    LIFE FREEDOM    ATTAINED. 

The  spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  against  which  my  little 
house  leaned,  was  called  "  Stony  Man  " ;  and  it  was  supposed 
to  be  full  of  copper.  Some  time  ago,  some  Northern  advent- 
urers had  set  up  an  engine,  in  order  to  mine  the  copper  and 
test  its  quality.  But,  for  reasons  which  I  had  never  under- 
stood, the  project  was  abandoned  and  the  men  went  home. 
They  had  built  a  small  shanty  on  the  ground,  and  I  had  lived 
with  them  to  do  their  work.  It  had  been  a  dreary  experience 
to  me,  and  I  was  thankful  when  it  was  over.  It  was  not, 
therefore,  a  pleasant  circumstance  to  me  when  Lorenze 
Prince  called  at  my  door,  and  told  me  he  had  come  to  see  if 
I  would  go  up  Stony  Man  again,  to  keep  house  for  two 
Northern  gentlemen,  who  had  just  arrived  in  Luray,  and 
were  going  to  start  up  the  old  engine,  and  see  what  they 
could  make  of  the  copper.  I  answered  him  hastily  that  he 
needn't  ask  me,  for  I  wouldn't  go  to  that  lonesome  place 
again  for  love  or  money.  Lorenze  thought  I  was  very 
foolish,  for  he  had  seen  them,  and  knew  they  were  nice 
gentlemen ;  and,  besides,  they  would  pay  me  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  week,  sure  pay.  I  at  last  agreed  he  might  tell  them 
that  I  would  be  up  there  the  next  morning,  and  would  get 


34  AUNT   BETTY  S   STORY 

their  dinner  for  them,  and  then  I  would  decide  about  staying 
longer. 

My  little  home  seemed  pleasanter  to  me  than  ever  that 
night,  when  I  thought  of  leaving  it.  I  was  enjoying  a  good 
degree  of  freedom  there.  I  could  go  out  and  come  in  as  I 
pleased ;  and  for  a  good  distance  about  the  country,  with 
Master  McCoy's  pass  in  my  bosom,  I  was  safe  to  a  certain 
extent.  It  never  once  occurred  to  me  that  this  change  might 
lead  up  to  the  end  I  had  so  long  desired ;  namely,  a  life  where 
I  should  need  no  pass  written  by  a  human  hand  to  insure  my 
safety  as  I  went  from  place  to  place,  but  where  the  stamp  of 
my  humanity,  imprinted  by  the  Infinite  Father  of  all,  should 
be  an  all-sufficient  guarantee  in  every  emergency.  I  have 
repeated  to  myself  many  times  since,  when  I  have  thought 
over  those  times, 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  perform." 

And  it  is  with  deep  and  loving  gratitude  I  refer  every  bless- 
ing to  him. 

Mr.  G.  J.  Adams  and  Mr.  J.  Butterworth  were  the  two 
gentlemen  from  Providence,  R.I.  The  next  morning,  as  I 
neared  the  engine-house,  Mr.  Butterworth  saw  me,  and  came 
forward  to  speak  with  me.  His  manner  of  speaking  was 
gentle  and  kind.  He  told  me  to  go  to  the  house  ;  and  Mr. 
Adams,  who  was  now  at  the  village,  would  be  back  soon,  and 
would  arrange  with  me. 

It  did  not  seem  lonesome,  as  I  had  imagined ;  and  I  set 
myself  to  work  at  once,  pulling  up  the  weeds  that  had  over- 
grown everything  and  everywhere. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Adams  came,  and  we  were 
soon  acquainted ;  and  I  felt  contented  and  at  home  there. 


AUNT   BETTY  S    STORY  35 

My  boy  was  happy,  as  was  I.  Several  months  passed,  I  do 
not  remember  how  many,  when  it  became  necessary  for 
both  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Butterworth  to  go  home  for  a 
time  ;  and  they  paid  me  in  advance  to  remain  where  I  was 
while  they  should  be  gone.  At  last  they  returned,  and 
things  went  on  as  before  until  one  night  I  was  down  at  the 
village,  in  old  Mr.  Aulman's  store,  and  he  asked  me  "how 
many  niggers  that  could  work  had  Master  McCoy  ? "  The 
question  was  like  a  sword  cutting  me  in  two,  or  like  a  sud- 
den flash  of  lightning  striking  me  to  the  ground.  I  knew 
well  there  was  trouble  ahead,  and  that,  for  McCoy's  debts,  I 
might  at  any  moment  be  sold  away  from  my  boy,  as  I  had 
been  before  from  my  girl.  I  determined  this  should  never 
be.  I  would  take  my  child  and  hide  in  the  mountains.  I 
would  do  anything  sooner  than  I  would  be  sold. 

A  few  days  passed,  and  my  worst  fears  were  confirmed  by 
Isaac  Prince,  who  told  me  that  all  McCoy's  property  was 
posted  to  be  sold.  The  next  day,  as  I  was  planning  how  I 
could  get  off,  I  saw  a  white  horse,  and  a  man  standing  at 
the  smelting-mill.  The  man  was  busily  talking  with  Mr. 
Adams,  and  both  seemed  very  earnest.  At  last,  the  man 
mounted  the  horse  and  rode  away,  while  Mr.  Adams  came 
into  the  house.  He  said  it  was  true  that  McCoy's  property 
had  been  attached,  to  pay  his  debts,  incurred  by  gambling, 
and  everything  would  go  under  the  auctioneer's  hammer. 
"  I  won't  be  sold.  He  shall  never  find  me,  to  sell  me  again," 
I  angrily  cried.  Mr.  Adams  looked  at  me,  and  I  saw  the 
great  pity  in  his  eyes.  He  said,  "Betty,  I  have  given  my 
word  in  writing  to  this  man,  whom  you  saw,  that,  provided 
he  will  leave  you  here  with  us,  instead  of  taking  you  to  the 
jail,  he  shall  find  you  here  whenever  he  shall  come  for  you." 
I  felt  the  floor  giving  way  under  me.     It  was  with  difficulty 


36  aunt  bettt's  story 

I  kept  from  falling.  A  few  moments  of  deep  agony  passed, 
and  then  I  was  able  to  say  to  him  that,  since  he  had  pledged 
his  word  in  black  and  white,  he  should  not  be  obliged  to 
break  it.  He  need  not  fear  for  me,  for  I  would  stay  just  as 
he  had  promised ;  but  "  I  was,  oh !  so  sorry  he  had  prom- 
ised." 

I  cannot  tell  now  in  what  way  it  was  first  suggested  that 
Mr.  Adams  should  buy  me  and  take  me  North  with  him.  I 
think,  when  he  was  home,  he  had  talked  with  his  wife  and 
her  sister,  Miss  Sarah  Brown,  about  such  a  possibility,  and 
Miss  Sarah  had  offered  to  advance  a  part  of  the  price  for 
which  I  might  be  purchased. 

However  that  might  have  been,  Mr.  Adams  now  saw  Mr. 
McCoy,  and  found  he  was  greatly  pressed  for  money,  and 
would  sell  me  as  readily  to  him  as  to  any  one ;  and,  not  to 
spend  too  much  time  over  what  was  really  a  very  simple 
business  transaction,  a  bill  of  sale  was  at  once  made  out  to 
Mr.  Adams,  which  reads  as  follows  :  — 

Received  of  G.  J.  Adams  seven  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars 
($775),  it  being  the  purchase  of  my  negro  woman  Berthena  and  her  child 
Joe.  The  right  and  title  to  the  said  negro  woman  I  warrant  and  de- 
fend against  any  person  or  persons  whatsoever. 

Given  under  my  hand  and  seal  the  27th  day  of  December,  1858. 
[Seal.]  David  McCoy. 

Benj.  F.  Grayson. 

Not  long  afterward, —  I  forget  how  long, —  Messrs.  Adams 
and  Butterworth  suspended  operations  at  the  mine,  and, 
taking  me  and  my  boy,  turned  their  faces  homeward.  They 
at  that  time  expected  to  return,  after  a  few  months,  and  prom- 
ised me  I  should  go  with  them,  so  I  did  not  feel  so  badly  at 
parting  with  all  the  old  faces  and  places  as  I  should  other- 


aunt  betty's  story  37 

wise  have  done.  However,  before  their  business  arrange- 
ments for  going  were  matured,  John  Brown  had  made  his 
invasion  into  Virginia ;  and  the  excitement  that  followed 
made  it  unsafe  for  any  one  who  sympathized  with  or  de- 
fended him  to  be  seen  in  any  Southern  State. 

Thenrfollowed  the  War  of  the  Rebellion ;  and  it  was  not 
till  a  much  later  date,  and  in  a  different  way  from  what  I  had 
anticipated  when  I  left,  that  I  saw  again  the  old  fields  where 
I  had  toiled  and  suffered,  and  grasped  again  the  hands  that 
before  had  beaten  and  bruised  me. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NEW  EXPERIENCES HOME  IN  THE  NORTH. 

The  feelings  with  which  I  entered  my  Northern  home,  22 
Chares-Field  Street,  Providence,  R.I.,  on  a  bright  pleasant 
morning  in  August,  1858,  can  be  more  easily  fancied  than 
described.  A  new  life  had  come  to  me.  I  was  in  a  land 
where,  by  its  laws,  I  had  the  same  right  to  myself  that  any 
other  woman  had.  No  jailer  could  take  me  to  prison,  and 
sell  me  at  auction  to  the  highest  bidder.  My  boy  was  my 
own,  and  no  one  could  take  him  from  me.  But  I  had  left 
behind  me  every  one  I  had  ever  known.  I  did  not  forget 
the  dreadful  hardships  I  had  endured,  and  yet  somehow  I 
did  not  think  of  them  with  half  the  bitterness  with  which  I 
had  endured  them.  I  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  ; 
and  it  was  no  wonder,  perhaps,  that  a  dreadful  loneliness 
and  homesickness  came  over  me. 

The  family  were  just  rising  when  Mr.  Adams,  with  his 
night-key,  opened  the  door,  and  showed  me  the  way  to  the 
sitting-room,  and  then  went  to  find  his  wife.  I  had  only  a 
moment  to  look  about  me,  when  the  girl  from  the  kitchen 
came  in,  and  in  a  very  friendly  manner  asked  me  to  go 
there  with  her.  Then,  in  a  few  minutes  more,  Mrs.  Adams 
came,  and,  in  her  smiling,  motherly  way,  held  out  her  hand 
to  me,  saying,  "  Good-morning,  Betty."     She  met  me  as  if  I 


aunt  betty's  story  39 

were  an  old  acquaintance.     At  any  rate,  she  made  me  feel 
that  I  was  with  friends. 

It  was  not  easy  at  first  to  accommodate  myself  to  the  new 
surroundings.  In  the  Southern  kitchen,  under  slave  rule, 
there  was  little  thought  of  convenience  or  economy.  Here 
I  found  all  sorts  of  Yankee  inventions  and  improvements  to 
make  work  easy  and  pleasant.  There  were  dishes  and  pans 
of  every  description,  clean  and  distinct  cloths  for  all  pur- 
poses, brushes  and  brooms  for  different  uses.  I  couldn't 
help  feeling  bewildered  sometimes  at  the  difference  in  so 
many  ways,  and  for  a  moment  wished  myself  back  in  "  old 
Virginny,"  with  my  own  people;  and  I  very,  very  often 
longed  to  see  the  old  familiar  faces  and  hear  the  old  sounds, ' 
but  never  could  I  forget  to  be  grateful  for  my  escape  from 
a  system  under  which  I  had  suffered  so  much. 


CHAPTER   X. 

AFFLICTION REMOVAL    TO    WORCESTER RETURN    SOUTH 

MEETING    OF    OLD    FRIENDS THE   NORTHERN    LIFE 

OLD    MASTERS    IN    THE    NORTH HOUSE- 
HOLDER. 

For  a  while  after  my  coming  North,  I  was  able  to  hear 
occasionally  from  the  old  home ;  but,  after  the  trouble  over 
John  Brown,  followed  as  it  was  by  the  war  for  Secession,  all 
communication  was  at  an  end. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  made  acquaintance  among  both  white 
and  colored  people,  who  were  interested  in  my  history  and 
glad  to  help  me. 

I  had  been  here  only  about  three  months,  when  my  little 
Joe  sickened  and  died ;  and  this  was  a  great  affliction  to  me. 

After  this,  Mr.  Adams  removed  his  family  to  Worcester, 
Mass. ;  and  I  went  with  them.  From  business  considera- 
tions, his  stay  there  was  shortened ;  and  he  returned  to 
Providence.  I  liked  the  friends  I  had  made  in  Worcester, 
and  decided  to  cast  in  my  lot  with  them.  I  had  joined  the 
Park  Street  Methodist  Church,  and  was  treated  with  such 
kind  consideration  by  the  brothers  and  sisters  there  that  I 
was  at  home  with  them ;  and,  as  I  could  find  all  the  work 
I  was  able  to  do,  I  was  very  comfortable  in  many  ways. 

When  at  last  the  war  was  over,  my  wish  to  go  back  revived. 

I  had  saved  some  money ;  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  deemed  safe 
by  my  friends,  I  undertook  the  journey.     I  purchased  my 


AUNT   BETTYS   STORY  4 1 

tickets,  taking  me  to  Culpepper  Court  House,  via  railroad ; 
and  all  passed  off  well.  Arriving  there,  I  found  the  stage 
would  not  leave  for  Luray  for  four  hours.  I  really  did  not 
see  how  I  could  wait  so  long.  I,  however,  went  over  to  the 
stable,  and,  seeing  a  colored  man  there  grooming  the  horses, 
I  asked  him  how  things  were  getting  on  down  there.  He 
saw  I  was  a  stranger ;  and,  as  one  in  haste  to  impart  good 
news,  he  quickly  answered :  "  Oh,  all's  free  here  now.  De 
colored  peoples  has  free  times  'bout  here  now,  de  war's  ober." 
His  face  and  eyes  fairly  shone  with  delight.  I  turned  into  a 
store  near  by,  and  bought  a  large  watermelon,  and  asked  him 
to  come  and  eat  it  with  me,  by  way  of  celebrating  "de  free 
times."  As  we  ate,  we  saw  an  old  colored  man  and  woman 
coming  along  the  road  ;  and,  when  they  reached  us,  I  said  : 
"  O  aunty,  you  look  happy.  How  are  the  times  going  with 
you  ?"  She  repeated :  "  How's  times  ?  Why,  de  ole  man  an' 
me  just  dun  got  married  las'  night,  an'  we're  takin'  our 
weddin'  journey."  They  ate  watermelon  with  us,  and  we  all 
laughed  together  over  the  new  times,  that  made  it  possible 
for  this  woman,  whose  many  children  had  enriched  her 
master's  treasury,  lo !  these  many  years,  now  to  realize  in 
any  degree  the  sanctity  of  a  marriage  relation  and  a  wedding 
journey. 

I  did  not  wait  for  the  stage  to  take  me  on  my  journey,  for 
I  was  too  eager  to  reach  the  end.  I  engaged  a  colored  boy 
to  take  my  satchel,  to  whom  I  was  proud  to  pay  one  dollar  in 
advance ;  and  we  started  on  foot  for  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
over  which  my  course  lay.  Remaining  there  over  night,  I 
pursued  my  way  on  the  next  day,  reaching  Luray  before 
night.  The  country  everywhere  had  been  laid  waste  by 
the  soldiers  of  both  armies  ;  but,  as  there  had  been  no  battle 
fought  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  things  were  not  so 


42  AUNT   BETTY  S    STORY 

much  changed  as  I  had  expected.  I  found  my  daughter 
Charlotte  grown  to  womanhood,  married,  and  had  one  child. 
My  old  masters,  Kibbler,  Prince,  and  McCoy,  expressed 
pleasure  at  seeing  me,  and  had  many  questions  to  ask  of 
people  and  things  at  the  North.  My  dear,  kind  old  mistress, 
Miss  Lucy,  had  been  paralyzed ;  and  her  face  was  drawn  on 
one  side,  which  greatly  changed  her.  She  was  delighted 
with  a  pair  of  cloth  shoes  that  I  carried  to  her. 

After  visiting  about  for  six  or  seven  weeks,  I  turned  my 
face  again  to  the  North,  my  daughter,  her  husband  and  child, 
coming  with  me. 

Three  times  since  I  have  made  the  same  journey,  bringing 
back  with  me,  from  time  to  time,  in  all  sixteen  of  my  rela- 
tives, and  have  encountered  many  interesting  incidents.  I 
have  always  found  some  one  —  sometimes  a  policeman,  and 
sometimes  a  simple  woman  or  boy  —  ready  and  willing  to 
help  me  in  every  emergency,  when  I  had  need.  I  have 
great  reason  to  speak  well  of  my  fellow-men,  and  to  be  most 
thankful  to  the  overruling  Providence  that  brought  me  up 
out  of  the  "house  of  bondage." 

I  forget  the  exact  date,  but  one  day  I  was  busy  with  my 
work  at  home,  when  a  message  came  to  me  from  Mrs.  War- 
ner, asking  me  to  come  to  her.  I  went  at  once;  and,  on 
being  shown  into  her  presence,  I  found  her  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  my  old  master,  David  McCoy, —  he  who  had 
taken  Jerry  away  from  me,  and  afterwards  had  sent  me  to 
Richmond  to  be  sold.  But  all  was  changed  now.  He  was 
not  even  Master  McCoy.  He  was  Mr.  McKay.  He  put  out 
his  hand,  and  said,  "  How  d'ye  ? "  not  exactly,  perhaps,  as  a 
reconstructed  man,  but  as  one  who  had  at  least  learned  some- 
thing from  the  "  logic  of  events  "  of  the  difference  in  our 
relations  to  each  other.     After   a  friendly   interchange   of 


AUNT   BETTY  S    STORY  43 

inquiry,  he  invited  me  to  call  on  him  at  the  Waverly  House, 
where  he  was  stopping.  Accordingly,  the  next  day  I  inquired 
at  the  Waverly  House  office  for  Mr.  McKay,  of  Virginia, 
and  a  servant  showed  me  to  his  room.  He  welcomed  me 
very  cordially  this  time ;  and  after  a  long  talk,  and  I  arose  to 
come  away,  I  asked  him  to  dine  with  me  the  next  day.  He 
expressed  much  satisfaction,  and  at  the  appointed  hour 
made  his  appearance.  I  prepared  such  a  dinner  as  I  thought 
he  would  enjoy,  and  was  glad  to  find  I  had  not  been  mistaken 
in  my  selections. 

On  rising  to  go,  he  turned  to  me,  and  said  :  "  Aunt  Betty, 
when  you  came  down  South,  you  wore  a  nice  pair  of  kid 
gloves,  with  fur  round  their  wrists.  Can  you  tell  me  where 
you  bought  them,  and  what  they  cost  ?  "  I  told  him  I  would 
gladly  go  with  him  and  try  to  find  such ;  but,  as  Dr.  Warner 
gave  mine  to  me,  I  did  not  know  their  price.  So  together 
we  looked  through  the  different  stores,  and  at  last  succeeded 
in  finding  a  pair  that  suited  him ;  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
paying  for  them,  and  then  presenting  them  to  him,  as  a  re- 
membrance of  his  visit  to  the  North,  as  well  as  of  me.  I 
never  saw  him  again,  for  it  was  not  long  after  that  he  died. 
My  old  master,  David  Kibbler,  died  also.  Jerry  Kibbler, 
my  good  Methodist  friend  and  class-leader,  came  to  Worces- 
ter, and  spent  several  days,  boarding  with  my  friend,  Mrs. 
Stearns,  during  the  time,  because  I  could  not  then  make 
him  comfortable  in  my  own  home.  I  took  him  to  Provi- 
dence to  see  Mr.  Adams,  who  showed  him  much  attention ; 
and  he  returned  home  with  a  very  warm  appreciation  of 
New  England  hospitality,  as  well  as  of  Northern  thrift  and 
energy,  and  regretted  that  the  South  had  been  so  long  blind 
to  her  own  interests. 


44  AUNT    BETTY  S   STORY 

My  life  in  the  North,  as  in  the  South,  has  been  full  of 
experiences,  both  sad  and  joyful. 

Sixteen  years  ago  this  winter,  I  was  sent  for  to  the  dying 
bed  of  Mrs.  Adams.  A  twelvemonth  is  scarcely  passed  since 
I  was  again  called  to  assist  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Adams,  as  he 
lingered  week  after  week,  only  half-conscious  of  life,  and 
then  passed  away.  His  recognition  of  my  poor  service 
gladdens  me  now,  for  I  can  never  express  the  satisfaction  it 
gave  me  to  minister  to  his  wants.  For  I  was  a  stranger,  and 
he  took  me  in :  I  had  fallen  amongst  thieves,  and  he  had 
rescued  me. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  kindness  of  my  Methodist  brothers 
and  sisters.  To  tell  the  half  of  it  would  be  impossible.  One 
thing,  however,  I  must  not  omit.  It  is  this :  on  going  to 
Sterling,  last  summer,  to  camp-meeting,  I  found  on  the  spot 
where  I  had  been  accustomed  to  pitch  my  tent  a  nice 
wooden  building,  waiting  for  my  occupation.  The  surprise 
was  so  great  to  me,  I  am  afraid  I  did  not  express  the  grati- 
tude I  really  felt ;  and  this  is  only  one  of  the  many  ways  in 
which  I  have  tasted  the  loving-kindness  of  my  friends,  and 
found  it,  like  that  of  the  infinite  Father,  "  oh,  how  free !  " 

I  am  now,  at  seventy-four  years  of  age,  the  owner  and 
occupant  of  a  small  house  at  21  Tufts  Street,  Worcester, 
Mass.  My  daughter  and  family  are  near  me,  in  an  adjoining 
house,  also  owned  by  me.     I  have  three  grandchildren  living. 

My  back  is  not  so  straight  nor  so  strong,  my  sight  is  not 
so  clear,  nor  my  limbs  so  nimble  as  they  once  were ;  but  I 
am  still  ready  and  glad  to  do  whatsoever  my  hand  findeth  to 
do,  waiting  only  for  the  call  to  "  come  up  higher." 

Bethany  Veney. 
Worcester,  Mass.,  1889. 


LETTER   FROM   REV.   V.   A.   COOPER, 
Superintendent  of  Home  for  Little  Wanderers,  Boston,  Mass. 

Two  hundred  years  of  human  bondage!  From  generation  to 
generation  the  vast  system  of  tyranny,  oppressing  every  faculty  of 
mind  and  capability  of  moral  nature,  transmitting  its  baneful  in- 
fluence from  parent  to  child,  and  then,  by  its  injustice,  dishonesty, 
and  utter  disregard  of  all  the  most  sacred  relationships  of  life, 
stifling  the  earliest  instincts  and  smothering  the  first  breathings  of 
the  innate  personality  which  distinguishes  the  race  created  in 
God's  image,  the  wonder  of  wonders  is  that  there  was  anything 
left  of  the  nobility  of  a  true  manhood  and  womanhood  in  a  single 
member  of  the  oppressed  and  ravished  race  at  the  end  of  two 
hundred  years.  Whatever  happened  at  the  Fall  of  Adam  and 
Eve,  the  strength  of  brain  and  heart  that  could  withstand  such 
treatment  and  retain  in  itself  the  fibre  and  life  of  noble  aspira- 
tions, strength  to  stand  for  justice,  truth,  virtue,  and  courage  of 
conviction,  must  have  had  something  left  in  it  both  God-like  and 
sublime.     Such  characters  there  were  all  through  the  South. 

Betty  Veney  was  one  of  them.  The  story  of  her  life  speaks 
nobly  for  herself,  sublimely  for  human  nature,  grandly  for  her 
race.  Amid  dishonesty  she  was  honest,  amid  injustice  she  had 
the  soul  of  honor,  amid  corruption  she  was  pure,  amid  persecu- 
tions dauntless  and  patient.  I  see  her  industrious,  beautiful, 
heroically  suffering  life,  against  the  white  man's  lecherous  greed, 
against  slavery's  oppression,  as  a  natural  development  amid  rank 
and  noxious  weeds  fed  and  watered  by  the  grace  of  God,  as  lilies 
are  which  lie  in  virgin  purity  on  the  bosom  of  fetid  waters  in  dank 
swamps. 


46  LETTER    FROM    REV.    V.    A.    COOPER 

We  can  never  undo  the  past  wrong ;  but  wherever  a  colored 
hand,  worn  out  with  honest  labor,  which  has  never  been  requited, 
is  stretched  out  palm  up  in  the  midst  of  Christian  plenty,  its  silent 
appeal  is  more  pathetic  than  any  language.  It  seems  to  come 
from  the  body  of  the  race,  to  bear  in  its  lines  the  sad  story,  not 
of  one  person,  but  of  the  millions  buried  and  forgotten  in  their 
unmarked  graves.  It  would  be  the  simplest  act  of  justice  to  pen- 
sion all  the  remaining  slaves.  The  cotton-fields  and  rice-swamps 
of  the  South  would  seem  then  to  be  yielding  the  peaceable  fruits 
of  righteousness.  It  would  then  appear  to  all  mankind  that  our 
religion  had  awakened  our  seared  Christian  conscience  to  the 
sense  of  the  wrongs  done  this  people. 

Dear  Aunt  Betty!  Her  race  is  nearly  run.  Her  sun  goes  down 
the  sky.  How  broad  the  chart  from  horizon  to  horizon  !  Long 
years  of  trouble,  toil,  self-sacrifice,  and  suffering !  May  thy  sun- 
set be  the  sun-rising  of  a  cloudless  day,  where  justice  shall  com 
pensate  thee  and  thine,  and  thy  independent  free  spirit,  equal  to 
the  angels',  enjoy  forever  the  freedom  of  the  sons  of  God ! 

Your  former  pastor  and  wife, 

V.  A.  and  Elizabeth  Cooper. 


LETTER   FROM   REV.   ERASTUS    SPAULDING. 


For  twenty-five  years,  I  have  been  acquainted  with  the  subject 
of  the  foregoing  pages.  I  know  her  to  be  a  woman  of  strict  integ- 
rity of  character,  good  judgment,  full  of  sympathy,  and  ever  ready 
to  do  all  in  her  power  to  relieve  the  sick  and  suffering.  Born  in 
slavery,  and  freed  from  her  master  by  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  she 
has  yet  more  whereof  to  glory  in  that  she  has  been  freed  from  the 
bondage  of  sin,  and  made  an  heir  of  God  and  a  joint-heir  with 
Christ.  If  I  am  ever  so  happy  as  to  get  to  heaven,  I  shall  feel 
myself  honored  if  I  can  have  a  seat  so  near  the  throne  as  Betty 
Veney. 

Rev.  Erastus  Spaulding. 

Millbury,  Feb.  5, 


I 


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